


An Island in a Sea of Stars

by bainsidhe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Foreshadowing, Light Angst, Solas and Lavellan in the Fade, Wintersend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bainsidhe/pseuds/bainsidhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellana Lavellan is tired of entertaining fickle nobles at the Skyhold Wintersend party; she is eager to return to her lover, Solas, who has promised her a surprise.  She could not even begin to imagine the wonders he had in store for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Island in a Sea of Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fen_Assan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fen_Assan/gifts).



> This was my TMB Secret Santa fic for Fen_Assan, who loves her some sexy Solavellan. I hope I did your OTP justice, Fen!

The Wintersend party at Skyhold was in full swing. The great hall was packed with an assortment of dignitaries and nobles, all hobnobbing and mingling in one great chaotic murmur of jolly voices, flushed cheeks, and guffawed laughter. Josephine had, naturally, insisted upon the party; it would be such a grand gesture of gratitude to their allies, she'd gushed, though privately everyone suspected that she'd just wanted to throw a fancy ball.

Ellana Lavellan was hating every minute of it.

Well, not _every_ minute. Despite her initial misgivings about the Tevinter mage, Dorian had since become a good friend, and he'd joined her for a spell, bringing her a glass of a "divine Vyrantium red that you simply _must_ try." He'd attempted to cheer her with his pithy remarks about the other guests, and she'd laughed gamely at his wit, but she couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that dogged her.

She knew it was because the person she most wanted to speak to, whose company she most longed for to endure the interminable pleasantries, was not there. Solas had simply smiled and shaken his head when she'd asked him to come.

"Why not?" she'd asked, perhaps petulantly in retrospect. "Everyone else will be there – you know how Josephine is."

"I do not think the people Josephine is trying to impress would appreciate the presence of an elven apostate," he'd responded placidly.

"But _I'm_ an elven apostate!"

He'd smiled in that knowing way of his. "Yes. But you are also the Herald of Andraste. That makes all the difference."

And so he wasn't here, and she found herself longing for his company acutely. Would it matter if she slipped away when no one was looking? The party guests were ostensibly there to mingle with the Inquisitor, but she knew that Orlesian nobles would far rather gossip and titter amongst themselves than muddle through a conversation with a Dalish mage with whom they had nothing in common, which suited her just fine. She'd already been here for a few hours, and most of the attendees were deep in their cups – surely no one would notice if she slipped away…

"Making a break for it?" Varric, of course, had seen her stealthily creeping towards the door that led to Solas's chambers. Flushing, she graced with dwarf with a wry grin.

"I think I've had my fill of pompous rich fops for tonight," she said. "I'm sure you understand."

Varric laughed. "Oh, believe me, Sparkly, I understand." He gave her a not-quite-lewd wink. "Tell Chuckles he missed a chance to watch the Comte du Montblanc trip over Lady Petit-Chien's toy poodle and end up ass-first in the pear treacle. It was a good show."

"I'm sure he'll be devastated," she laughed herself, glad that her friends understood just how miserable such events were for her. With a final nod at Varric, she disappeared from the banquet hall and slipped into the corridor leading to Solas's chambers.

She rapped gently on his door, but there was no response. She frowned in puzzlement. He'd told her that he would like to see her as soon as she could gracefully escape the party – surely he hadn't forgotten? That would be entirely unlike him. She rapped again, louder this time. When he didn't respond, she decided to push open the door on her own, frowning in concern.

"Solas?" She called out, her eyes roving over the gorgeous frescoes he'd painted along the walls. She spied him, at last, sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, in an apparent trance. Her voice reached him where her knock had not, and his eyes snapped open with a start. Peering across the room, he spotted her, and rose to his feet with a bashful smile.

"Ah. Vhenan. It is good to see you," he said, and she went to him, their foreheads resting together as he slipped his arms around her in a soft embrace. He kissed her, a soft, chaste peck on the lips, and she made a whimper of protest when he moved away, releasing the embrace and moving back to where he'd been sitting on the floor. She noticed magic glyphs and wards forming a loose circle around the spot.

"I apologize – I'd hoped to finish everything before you returned from the party," he said. "But I believe it is ready now."

"Finish what? What's ready?" She gave him a puzzled frown.

"I suppose you could call it a surprise," he said, gifting her with another of his familiar shy smiles. "I am aware that Wintersend is a holiday of some significance across Thedas. It seemed wrong that your only celebration should be a tedious pageant filled with vain human lords and their simpering hangers-on. And so I thought I might do something for you." He gestured at the space in the midst of the circle of glyphs.

"I – Solas, thank you," she said, grateful for his kind thought but unsure exactly what to make of this 'surprise.' "I'm afraid I don't quite understand – your surprise is a ritual circle?"

"Not a ritual," he said. "Not precisely. But you must join me inside. Then I will show you." He smiled at her again, that reassuring smile that always set her heart to ease. "It is nothing dangerous, I can assure you."

She laughed, then – as if she could ever fear him! "Very well," she said, returning his smile, and taking his hand as she joined him inside the circle. "I admit to being extraordinarily curious about this surprise."

She stood facing him, her hands in his, his stormy grey eyes meeting hers.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, eyes burning.

She squeezed his hands, then, squeezed them tight and met his fiery gaze with her own.

"Always," she whispered. He smiled in response.

"Good," he replied. And then he began to speak – the words sounded like elvhen, but not. Perhaps a form of elvhen she was unfamiliar with? Brow creased in concentration, he completed his incantation, and, in the brief hanging moment of silence after, Ellana opened her mouth, to ask him what he'd said, in what tongue his words had been spoken –

But then she was no longer in Skyhold's rotunda, surrounded by Solas's frescoes. Blinking rapidly in alarm, she swiveled her head around, taking in her new surroundings.

They were standing in what seemed to be the night sky, their foothold a swift grey cloud, an island in a sea of stars. The stars blazed around them, a kaleidoscope of incandescent candles that flared and receded like fireflies across a meadow. Ellana's mouth gaped open in wonder as she gazed at the wondrous vista.

"Do you like it?" Solas asked, almost shyly, and she snapped her gaze back to him at once. He gazed at her with a warm yet odd expression – there was trust, affection, and joy in his eyes, but also something else, something shadowed – fear? Worry?

"Of course I do!" she breathed, afraid to speak too loud lest the tenor of her voice disturb the surreal beauty that surrounded her. "It's – this is magnificent, Solas!" She seized on his gaze again with her own. "Where is this? Is this the Fade, again? Or some other illusion?"

"Yes." His expression held hers steadily, and she noted that the shadow, though dimmed, was still present.

"Yes?" She smiled, amused. "To which? Or is that part of the surprise?" she teased coyly.

"Yes, this is the Fade," he said, and she felt his fingers tracing a soft pattern against the smooth skin of her hands. "But it is also an illusion, of sorts, though not in the common understanding of the word. It is… not true, but it is not false, either. It is, rather, a vision of what might be real."

She gazed around again at the splendorous scene, the bursting of the stars interrupted by swirls of luminous clouds. It was as if the heavens themselves had been made manifest for her.

"I don't follow," she said, squeezing his hands, as if afraid her admission would make him lose respect for her. He was prone to statements such as this, opaque and inscrutable to all but himself. She feared sometimes that he found her simple and trite. "It's real, but it's not real?"

"In a manner of speaking," he said. He released her hands, and she feared, for just a moment, that he was irritated with her for not understanding; but then, with a sweep of his fingers, a path formed itself before them, assembling itself from the very ether that surrounded them. It led into the hazy distance, towards an illuminated bank of dimly-glowing clouds. He took her hand in his, and pulled her close, his other arm fitting comfortably across the small of her back.

"This is what the Fade truly is – truly could be," he said. "Not merely a strange and frightening realm from which we pull dreams and spirits and parlor tricks. It is the very fabric of reality, formed and shaped and created from the essence of all who touch it!" He released her hand again, and lifted his own. A glowing orb, summoned from the swirling clouds, drifted into his open palm, and he grasped it, his fingers working the luminescent energy, sculpting it, until it assumed the shape of a flower, petals open and blooming. He took her hand again, and gingerly placed the flower in her grasp, folding her fingers closed around it.

"What if 'magic' was not a strange and inaccessible thing, a gift given only to those few who could channel the Fade's energy through the Veil? What if it surrounded us – what if it was as essential to life as the sky above and the grass below? What if creating wonders unimaginable were as simple as breathing?" He turned her gently so that she faced him directly, his arms pulling her close.

"But how is that possible?" she whispered, her voice full of wonder and fear. "You saw what happened when the Breach allowed the Fade to spill into our world."

"The Breach was unnatural," he said. "The world – our world, and the world of the Fade – was not prepared for such a violent interruption." He sighed, and creased his brow in frustration, and Ellana immediately worried that she'd said the wrong thing, ruined the moment.

"I mean, it sounds wonderful," she hastened to add. " _This_ is wonderful! But, I'm sorry, Solas, I just want to understand. Help me understand," she said, raising her hand to his face.

He smiled at her and nuzzled the hand she'd placed on his cheek. "You have always had such an open, inquisitive mind, vhenan," he said softly. "It is one of the reasons I fell in love with you." He leaned in, then, and claimed her lips with his.

She kissed him back, ardently, opening her mouth to him, her heart hammering in her chest as he explored her with his tongue. Solas was often maddeningly chaste – she sometimes teasingly joked to him that he preferred to commune with his spirit friends than with her – but this, this was something else altogether. A heat began to build in her belly as he ravaged her mouth, lips and tongues clashing and sliding together, her need building with every caress. At last, they broke apart, breath heaving and mingling as the stars danced around them.

"Forgive me, vhenan," he said, and a strange sadness seemed to come over him.

"Forgive you for what?" she said, breathless and overwhelmed. "For showing me something so amazing? For kissing me like I've never been kissed before?"

"For – " He seemed on the cusp of something, his mouth half open, brows furrowed. "For showing you a dream that cannot be."

She smiled at him, her hands resting across the back of his neck. "It's a beautiful dream," she whispered, leaning in to rest her forehead against his.

"I wanted you to see the Fade as I see it," he said, his voice strangely urgent. "This is my gift to you."

"It's incredible, Solas," she said. "I wish we could live here. Just the two of us, forever, building our dreams into castles in the sky." She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and her eyes caught sight of her left arm, looped loosely around his neck. The Anchor glowed softly but insistently, and she closed her eyes. She couldn't live here, couldn't abandon the world to live in this dream realm with Solas – not yet, not when the waking world depended on her to stop Corypheus from destroying everything.

He drew back, his eyes solemn. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing. "Perhaps one day, ma vhenan," he said. "But I think we should return now."

She held his hand again as he spoke the strangely mystifying worlds of old elvhen, and closed her eyes, losing herself in the gentle cadence of his voice. When she reopened them, she was back in the rotunda at Skyhold, the colorful frescoes surrounding her, reminding her of the dreamscape she'd just left behind.

Most nights, he dismissed her with a polite but kind farewell. She'd long since stopped wondering why he hesitated so to be intimate with her; for a man so unaccustomed to the company of others, so at ease with only himself, it must be difficult for him to allow another into such unfettered access to his most personal self. But tonight, he did not send her away, and as she fell into his arms, she wondered if perhaps he had finally opened up to her fully at last.

As they made their way across the room, she realized, as she slid her hands across his back, that she still held something in her hand. She placed it on the desk as she steered him toward the bed, and the Fade-touched flower glimmered on the table, petals shimmering in the dim candlelight, as the two lovers spent their passion and returned to the land of dreams.


End file.
